


Scorched

by Rosy_horse



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angel Castiel, Angels, Dean Winchester is Saved, Dean x Castiel - Freeform, Demons, Destiel - Freeform, Hell, M/M, Other, Raised You From Perdition, Supernatural - Freeform, Wing fluff, Wings, dean soul, supernatural season four
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-03
Updated: 2014-09-03
Packaged: 2018-02-16 01:20:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2250531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rosy_horse/pseuds/Rosy_horse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Castiel battles through hell to save Deans soul they spend time together while they both heal. During this time they heal spiritually and physically, rebuild deans body, and most importantly fall in love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Scorched

     The angel was broken and battered but he pushed on. He could hear the groans of his brothers and souls as they writhed in agony. He could smell the feathers of his comrades burning, the distinct smell filled his nostrils with every breath he took. His own wings were scorched and battered but it was worth it, he could sense the soul, it felt so close, close enough to touch. The angel pushed through the pit with all his might, battling with demons and the tortured souls of hell, smiting anything that came in his way. Suddenly the angel felt the energy around him change, it was pulsing with longing, fear, sorrow, and guilt, almost as if there was a child weeping, sure these things might be normal for hell but something was different there was a righteousness to it something inviting and he knew he had found the soul. He searched around fervently and saw a golden light different from the blue and black souls of hell, with his wings spread out their full span the angel dashed towards the soul and flew away, wings beating strong and urgent. The soul, instead of fighting, grabbed onto the angel in a kind of embrace and curled his fingers through the strong, now blackened, feathers of the angel. A joyous tear crept from the angels eye as he yelled, “Dean Winchester has been saved!”.

                         ...

       The angel brought the soul to an isolated lake surrounded by trees of all kinds and laid him down on the soft sandy shore. At first the soul was reluctant to let go of his angel but eventually he lay his head on the sand and rested. The angel was tired and injured, his grace unable to heal his torn and scorched wings, so he too lay down. He stayed a distance away from the soul as to not wake him but the air was cool and he could swear he saw the soul quivering, the angel moved closer to the soul and wrapped his wings around it sighing in content and drifting to sleep. The angel woke suddenly to the sound of groans, he pulled his wings away from the soul and tucked them behind his back. The soul was injured, his foundation torn and tattered from hell, his morals shattered, guilt stinging his very essence. The angel sat on his knees next to the soul and wept for the soul was once whole and beautiful in every sense of the word. He placed the palm of his hand onto the the soul's shoulder and the groans ceased, the angel closed his eyes and focused on his own grace, willing it to move into the soul. The soul shrieked as a trace of the angel’s grace flowed into him, working him, trying to knit him back together. The angel sighed, he would have to stay here longer than planned while the soul healed. The soul, almost as in defiance of the angels protest to stay with him longer, curled up and nuzzled into the angels lap and sighed happily. Perhaps, though the angel, it wouldn’t be so bad to stay after all.

                       … 

      The angel and the soul sat under a large palm tree, the soul sitting on the angels lap playing with his feathers. “Angel?”, the soul asked.

“Yes, what's the matter?”.

”Why are your wings still burned and scarred? It’s been almost a year that we’ve sat in this grove together and I am almost healed, how come you are not?”.

“Well soul, my wings are manifestation of my grace, therefore they can not heal completely.”. The soul traced a finger gently over a torn feather and the angel shivered under the soul. “Does it hurt you?”, asked the soul.

“No, not any more.” the angel said as he brushed his hand over the souls head. “You are right though soul, you are almost healed, I believe it is time for you to go back to your body, to go back home.” The soul stiffened under his touch,”I don’t don’t want to leave yet, I could stay here forever, wrapped in your wings.”.

The soul embraced the angel tighter and the angel sighed,“ So could I but you must go back at one point.”. The soul just sighed and rested his face in the crook of the angels neck, hoping to fall asleep and forget about his upcoming duties. The next day when the soul awoke he was under the great palm tree but the angel was not, he looked around sleepily hoping to glance the large black feathers of his angel peeking from behind a tree but they were nowhere to be seen. The soul wandered to the shore where he spotted his angel bathing something in the clear waters of the lake. “Angel, what are you doing?”. 

The angel turned his head to look at the soul,”I am cleansing your body.” The soul did not reply, instead he sat on the shore and watched his angel, a single tear forming in his eye. When the angel had finished bathing the body he carried it to the shore and laid it next to the soul. The soul looked at the thing with disgust and turned his head away. “It is time.” said the angel. 

“This body is broken, I will not enter it.” the soul said as he peered at his body. It was scarred and dull. The angel gazed down at the body, the soul was right, this body was no match for his beautiful soul. 

“Come,” said the angel, “We will fix it together.” The angel grabbed the souls hand and pulled him to his feet. They walked throughout the grove of trees and around the sandy shores for days until all of the precious materials were gathered; green apples to color his irises, honey to tone and patch up his skin, pomegranate juice for his blood, pink rose petals for his lips, mother of pearl for his nails, and golden grasses for his hair. When all of the materials were gathered and placed next to the body the angel went to work. His hands were nimble and quick as he restitched the broken body. The soul just sat and stared in awe. After an hour or so the angel stepped away looking down on his work. He looked over to the soul who was staring blankly at the body. “What do you think?”, asked the angel.

“He’s beautiful.” the soul said quietly. 

“Yes,”, said the angel, “Just as beautiful as you. With that the soul embraced the angel tightly, curling his fingers into the angels feathers for what could be his last time. 

“Will I remember our time here?” the soul whispered into the crook of the angels neck.

“No.” the angel said hot tears beginning to roll down his face. The soul nodded and stepped away, 

“I love you.” said the soul.

“And I you.” replied the angel. With that the soul transferred himself into his body. The angel sat there weeping for weeks until there were no more tears for him to shed before finally returning to his brothers and sisters. 

                 ...Afternote...

Sam and dean had just settled into their motel, they had found some kind of case nothing too exciting, there were barely any leads. None the less nothing had caught their interest lately so there they were sitting on small creaky beds in Atascadero, CA. Cas had been helping with cases a bunch more lately so it was no surprise when he appeared in the room.

“Hello Dean, Sam.” 

“Hey Cas.” Dean said. Castiel leaned against the wall and splayed his wings out behind him while Sam and Dean unpacked their things. When they had finished unpacking Sam said,” Guys, I’m going to go hit the library, behave while I’m out would ya?” 

“Alright, be back by six I want to grab some grub at the diner.” Dean said sternly. After that there was just awkward silence as dean sat on the edge of the bed staring at Castiel’s wings. At one point, after around thirty minutes of awkward silence, Dean stood up and walked over to Cas. He stared at Castiel’s wings particularly where they were scorched. “Hey cas?” 

“Yes Dean.” replied Castiel. 

“Why are your wings so burned?” Castiel pondered the question for a minute knowing that if he were to tell Dean the truth that Dean would blame himself. Before Castiel could answer Dean’s hands were brushing along his wing. Castiel shivered and suddenly dean’s arms were around him, tears streaming from his eyes onto Castiel’s skin. “Dean what is it? What’s wrong?” Castiel asked alarmed.

“Cas….My, My angel…. I remember, I remember it all.” Castiel returned the embrace and rocked back and forth clutching his soul, holding onto his Dean winchester. “Cas?”. 

“Yes Dean” 

“I love you”

“And I You” 

                         Fin. 


End file.
